Title: These Arms of Mine
Author: Blue
Rating: NC-17..........eventually
Summary: Lex waxes poetic (not literally) about his feelings towards a certain blonde
Disclaimer: I don't own these characters.....if only I did. Nor do I own the rights to the song These Arms of Mine by the imcomparable Otis Redding. I highly recommend taking a listen, it's wonderful.
A/N: Thanks to Sabby for betaing this. And to Kris for helping with the direction of the story. It's my first songfic so be gentle. And, I just wanted it noted that these things are hard to write! Plus, do I get any extra points for using a song that has my name in it?
Chapter One: Lonely
These arms of mine
They are lonely, lonely and feeling blue
Being reared at the best boarding schools in the country and abroad prepared one for many situations. One learned how to stage a coup, how to swindle those less fortunate out of what was rightfully theirs, how to put the most ideal spin on an amoral transgression…..and then there were the classes. However, there was no such instruction on how to handle the inappropriate, overwhelming urge to fully possess someone who was off limits to you on every level.
Lex came as close to sighing as his Luthor pedigree would allow while he expertly lifted a flute of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter. He savored the overly expensive liquid as it coursed down his throat and watched the people milling about his domicile with detached curiosity.
If nothing else, Lex knew the proper way to throw a party for his friend. ‘Yes, friend, singular,’ Lex noted to himself. Tonight, they were celebrating Clark’s graduation from college. Lex had made it a black-tie affair, figuring it would make the evening more interesting. Someone was always sure to appear in a horrid outfit.
Lex was pleased, yet not surprised by, the number of friends that the farmboy had made in his four years at Metropolis University. Lex was more pleased, however, at the fact that they were all of legal drinking age. He remembered too many parties that entailed him sipping a Coke instead of his fine Scotch after a platitude filled speech given to him by Jonathan Kent regarding the importance of setting a good example for the youth of America. Or, some drivel to that effect.
Most of the first floor of the Manor was taken up by the festivities, with the recent graduates drifting from one room to another. Lex had been able to pick out a few familiar faces; Clark’s current flame, Clark’s roommate and a fellow journalism major that would be employed by the Inquisitor in just a few months.
As his eyes continued to scan the room, he realized that he had been looking for someone in particular. For her.
Forcibly, Lex stopped the movements of his eyes and moved to a quiet corner of the room to sit on a sprawling leather couch. It wasn’t often that he felt melancholy, but he found that being in large crowds often brought it out in him.
Usually, he would make the required greetings and then slip into his own thoughts. Which, most of the time, were occupied by his business. Or, more to the point, keeping his father’s hands off of what he had built over the last six years in Smallville. Last quarter, LexCorp had turned a greater profit than LuthorCorp and Lex was sure that his father was none too pleased with that.
However, tonight, his thoughts were more of a personal nature. His eyes flickered around the room again, taking in the small groups of people that were engrossed in their own inane conversations. And here he was, alone. As usual. Lex had to check himself from rolling his eyes at his self-pitying thought.
‘Poor, little rich boy,’ a voice, which sounded like his father, taunted him. On some level, Lex knew that throwing the party for Clark would bring out the usual feelings of inadequacy and envy for the way the boy seemed to draw people to him. Currently, the brunette in question was in the center of a large group of people, gesturing like mad, everyone absorbed in the story he was telling. Meanwhile, there was not one soul in a ten foot radius of where Lex was sitting. After Clark had introduced the guests one by one to Lex as they arrived, the older man had been bitterly amused to see how long it was before the new acquaintance made some excuse to leave his presence. It had gotten so bad that Lex had actually been happy to see Pete Ross. Never a good sign.
The small microcosm of the party was imitating the world at large. Clark Kent had friends and family while Lex, well, Lex had his champagne to keep him warm.
Not that his outward appearance would ever betray the thoughts or feelings that were percolating in his brain. To anyone who happened to sneak a glance at the man, and there were many women, and more than a few men, too, that did just that, Lex would appear confident and aloof. Years of training by his father and, later, himself kept the impervious mask in place on his face.
Chapter Two
These arms of mine
They are yearning, yearning from wanting you
A crack appeared in the façade, however, when a small hand, which seemed to appear from nowhere, landed on Clark’s suit clad shoulder. A moment later, a tidal of laughter erupted in the small group as Clark turned a deep shade of red. A smirk appeared on Lex’s face, thinking of how Clark had most likely just been busted while ‘embellishing’ a story.
Lex shifted on the couch, trying to see past the blockade that was Clark’s hulking form. After a moment, Clark seemed to compose himself and turned around, tightly embracing the person behind him. He spun the blonde around and than placed her back on her feet, in the center of the group. For once, Clark had done something right. Lex now had an unobstructed view of one Chloe Sullivan.
Instinctively, Lex raked his eyes over her body. Chloe had outdone herself this evening. The dress, what of it there was, was a deep blue, a color that the girl rarely wore. It was silk and was hugging every curve that the young woman had. She was showing an ample amount of cleavage and Lex’s eyes narrowed as he watched some of the men appreciating the view. The thin straps that held up the dress were tied at the back of her neck. Chloe turned, grabbing some champagne of her own.
“Sweet Jesus,” Lex practically moaned. The dress was backless, showing off her pale, unflawed skin. The material of the dress covered her skin once more at the small of her back and Lex realized two things at once. Chloe had a tattoo; it was peeking out from behind the material. And, she wasn’t wearing any underwear; the dress was the only scrap of material separating him from what he wanted so badly.
The change in him had happened gradually. He had been aware of it, but refused to acknowledge it, instead burying himself in work. But, every time he had found himself alone with the tiny blonde, every one of his senses became aroused by her. ‘Not just your senses buddy,’ he reminded himself.
Lex remembered a particularly heated argument the two of them had gotten into the summer before her junior year of college. Clark and Chloe had come over to the Manor to ‘pump him for information’, as Chloe had put it, about some of the more out of the way spots in Metropolis. The two, along with Pete and Lana, had already seen all of the regular sights but wanted to explore other parts of the city.
After a few minutes, Clark had run out of the room, blathering some nonsense about having to do farm chores, leaving the two alone. Within minutes, Lex had found himself debating the validity of the accounts of Joan of Arc’s exploits. After Lex had made a particularly excellent point, the little spitfire sprang from her chair and began to pace around the room. Lex listened to her words, careful to make sure that when she looked back at him, his eyes had ceased looking at her ass. When she had leaned over his desk in order to encroach on his personal space, an old trick he used often, his eyes had flickered to her chest.
A curse had flitted through his mind and he’d quickly returned his gaze to her face. Chloe had looked shocked, but recovered quickly as she continued on with her rant, ignoring the fact that she had caught Lex’s eyes glued to her breasts. The air around them had changed, the palpable tension making the room seem smaller than it was.
Chloe had continued speaking and began to wander around the room again. She was the only woman Lex had ever encountered that could make him hard merely by talking about a thirteenth century French saint. When Chloe had been done talking, Lex had chosen not to speak. Wanting to see if Chloe would mention the rather large, pink elephant that he had brought into the room. Her eyes had locked with his, the hazel depths darker than usual and she had opened her mouth to speak. Clark, displaying his always impeccable timing, had walked back into the room then, effectively stopping whatever conversation had been about to occur. That night, Lex was ashamed to admit, he had researched what the legal age of consent in the state of Kansas was. When he found out Chloe was of age, he had scratched that off the long list of reasons why she was the worst possible woman for him to want. Now, all that was left was:
1) Gabe would kill me
2) Pete would kill me
3) Jonathan Kent would kill me
4) Clark would kill me (?)
5) Father would try to seduce her
6) Reporter
7) Would be whipped
8) LexCorp would fall into ruin due to the fact that I would never leave the bedroom
The last fact on the list had stopped most of the higher functions of Lex’s brain when it had plunged directly into the gutter at the thought of taking the blonde on his desk at the office.
That had been a little over two years ago and he was still no closer to making his numerous fantasies a reality. ‘Couldn’t very well try right after that now, could you,’ he reminded himself as he watched the blonde saunter over to Pete and Lana. Shortly after their little tete a tete, Clark and Chloe had begun to date.
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